Chapter Nineteen
Coffee, Eggs

They took their time. Caerella and Flaveo had figured out they could afford to. As she’d pointed out, the Cavean was on foot, and the Capital was several days on horseback. Even if, as Clarus warned, it didn’t tire or rest, it would still have a long way to go, and the main road south had no major settlements. So it was decided that Caerella and Vera would heal up for two days before they went riding again. That was two days ago. 

Vera stepped out of the tent and stretched. Her shoulder and back still ached when she moved, and breathing too deep still stung, but Aesling had reassured her that this would lessen as they traveled. She took slow shallow breaths as she let the cool morning air brush her face and play with her hair. 

“Spring is coming,” Aesling said with satisfaction. Vera smiled too and wrapped her arms around herself. The three were back together. Everyone was alive. And while Flaveo and Rubicus stumbled over themselves and their words, Caerella was there to raise an eyebrow at them, setting them straight. In the distance was the largest city in the Kingdom, somewhere over the horizon, and it was under threat. 

But right now? Things weren’t so scary. She barely even jumped when she felt something touch her shoulders. She spun around and almost smacked face-first into Clarus. “Hey,” he said, his voice joyful but soft so as not to wake any of the others. “Careful.” He adjusted the cloak he’d laid over her shoulders. “I’d hate for you to fall ill.”

“Thank you,” Vera blushed. She found it hard to look anywhere. If she looked straight ahead, she was face to face with his chest, and the buttons of his shirt came apart slightly and to keep looking there would be, well… But looking down was obviously not an option, and turning away might be seen as too rude. She tilted her head up and looked him defiantly in the eyes. “Good morning, Prince Clarus,” she said, and realized that she had miscalculated the difference in their height. He wasn’t wearing his boots and she was and his face was close to hers again and…

“‘Morning,” Rubicus said as he walked past them. Vera spun around and trotted away from a softly chuckling Clarus, towards the fire. Flaveo had already made coffee. He was a few years older than Rubicus, and didn’t sleep all that much. Even less, she suspected, after having been captured by the Cavean, although she’d had some trouble feeling really bad for him. Clarus started doing some exercises with his sword. For the past two days, he’d been running drills every day, and watching his sword flash through the air was a pretty impressive spectacle. Doubly so when she remembered that he was just as quick and cool-headed in a life-or-death situation. 

Vera sat down by the fire too, and Flaveo wordlessly handed her a cup of coffee, and she took it with a whispered “Thank you.” Small steps. Rubicus walked over to their packs. More specifically, he’d walked over to her pack, and started to pull her armor out of it. The chest pieces had been ruined by the axe, and Vera was a little fascinated to think that the dark stains across it were her blood. “Rubicus?” she asked, curious as to what he was planning to do with it. She’d planned on mending it herself, on the road if she had to. Flaveo had taught her how to handle a needle and thread, after all. 

“It’s too big,” he said curtly, looking between her and it. He frowned, calculating. “Fixing the gap won’t fix that.” He took out a toolkit from Flaveo’s bag and sat down with his back to the fire — and the rest of them. “I’ll get it done before we head on the road.” Vera gave him a quiet word of thanks, but he only responded with a grunt. She sighed. The three were together, but the distance was still there. 

“He needs time,” Flaveo said to her surprise. He took his own cup of coffee and sat down next to her. “I do too.” He sipped his cup. “I don’t… I don’t know how…” He sighed. “How much of the magecraft do you know? What’ve you picked up from me?” His sideways glance indicated this was as much a genuine question as it was a test. Vera shrugged, making her shoulder twitch. 

“Not a great deal. You’ve kept me in the dark a lot, Flaveo. ‘It’s too dangerous’ and all that.” He nodded and chewed his tongue for a moment. 

“Aye, that’s true. Then know and believe that when I say magic is an unstable and dangerous thing, I know what I’m speaking of.” Internally, Vera heard Aesling scoff. “I’ve never seen human magic do these things.” He gestured noncommittally at her. “But I’ve heard of spirits and demons taking possession of the minds and bodies of innocent folk. How do I know? I believe Caerella, and Saints help me, I’ll not risk her wrath again, but that’s belief. How do I know, C— Vera?”

“Best of luck”, Aesling said. “Worst comes to worst, you can always wake her up and have her break something else of his.” Vera resisted the smirk that image conjured up in her head actually showing up on her face.

“I don’t know, Flaveo. Caerella said it well,” she said. “I was not happy, before. You know that.” She sipped the coffee. It was a little too sweet. Flaveo put some kind of honey in his coffee that made it keep longer, but it wasn’t always to her taste. “Not that the mercenary life is a happy one, and I had plenty reason to be a miserable child.”

“You’re still a child,” Flaveo said with a grin, and then lowered his head. “Continue.”

“But I was… numb. Numb to the world, numb to myself. And I thought for the longest time that it was a kind of… sickness. That I was broken. From what was done to me. My parents… There was so much.” She sipped her cup again, if only to collect her thoughts. Flaveo nodded again. “But then I met Aesling — the spirit — and she asked me straight and forward what I wanted. I already knew the answer to that question, and I told her. She only gave me the tools to make that a reality.” She leaned her chin on her hand and looked at the fire. “I do not feel I’m a different person, only that I am more myself than I’ve ever been. Although I’ll grant you that I behave… differently.”

“Certainly more talkative,” Flaveo said, and he didn’t even flinch under Vera’s withering glare. “What you say makes sense, Vera. But it is hard to see you and try to… think the right way? A part of me sees your face and tries to see how I remember you being underneath that.” He scratched his chin. “Although I suppose a better way to think about it is that this —” he waved at Vera again, “— is who you were underneath, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “I thought I had a handle on the world, girl, but you’re making an old man’s head hurt.”

“I think Caerella does a well enough job of that already,” Vera said with a little smile. 

“Yes, she does,” Flaveo said, and dramatically rubbed the back of his head, where she’d rapped him on the skull with her knuckles the night before. “Now, have you been taking care of the weapons like Ruben and I showed you?” Happy to be talking normally, Vera went over to retrieve some of the weapons to show that they had been, indeed, well taken care of. Flaveo got onto her for not doing a perfect job, but in the same way he’d always had. Even if he might need some more time, he was getting to trust her, and to trust Aesling, and it was hard not to be optimistic at that. 

Caerella took a bit to wake up. Flaveo had decided to let her sleep in. If they were riding out today, she needed the rest. While she’d recovered quite quickly from what should have been a lethal perforation, the shock to her system from the various daggers had taken her some time to heal from. Her right arm, especially, had needed to be in a sling. Aesling had reassured Vera that she was still healing well — and fast — but there wasn’t much more she could do without compromising Vera’s own recovery process. 

This had not, however, limited Caerella in her grace, or her stealth. She appeared so quietly from behind Flaveo, he nearly spilled all of his coffee. “I heard my name,” Caerella said as she poured herself a cup. “I hope you’ve not been gossiping or offending.” Her face was calm, as if she was just waking up, but her eyes met Vera’s and seemed to wait for a signal. Vera just nodded with a smile. 

“Nothing of the sort, Caerella. Just an old man trying to feel relevant by teaching me how to whet a blade like it’s my first time.” Flaveo’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head in indignation. “So I’m humoring him and letting him point out spots I ‘missed’.” 

“You’re a mongrel,” Flaveo said as he walked over to the fire and started breakfast under Caerella’s watchful gaze. “Do we have eggs?” Vera nodded and pointed near the fire. Clarus had gone out to find some in the morning. Rubicus and Flaveo had taken it upon themselves to teach him how to survive in the wild. Just in case. “Good.” He retrieved some dried meat, and soon the air started to smell like, well, food. It was making Vera’s mouth water. Caerella sat down near Vera. 

“Good morning, girl,” she said. “You’re recovering well?” Vera nodded, and raised her  eyebrows. “Good. As am I.” She flexed her shoulder with a frown. “I’ll fight left-handed a day or so.” She looked over at Clarus, who was still going through his routines, his shirt now drenched with sweat. “I may ask him to spar. He seems capable enough, your Prince.”

Vera’s face went red again, which was proving to be a bit of a pattern when it came to Clarus. She reached out to Aesling. “Can’t you do anything about the blushing? I feel blood rushing to my face at the drop of a hat!”

“I’ve always been able to,” Aesling said matter-of-factly, “but, well, that wouldn’t be my place, would it? Besides, it’s far more fun this way.”

“Flaveo is right. You’re a demon.” Vera turned her attention back to Caerella. “He’s not my prince,” she mumbled. “He’s just…” She started to crumble under the gaze of the older woman, and her slowly elevating eyebrows. “He’s…” Caerella leaned forward, listening in rapt attention. “H—” She stopped. Caerella’s face had split into the most unsettling, horrifying smile she’d ever seen. Caerella didn’t smile. She glowered. She kept her face neutral. If she didn’t glare and frown so much, she would’ve been a contender for the name of Stoneface herself. 

“If he hurts you I’m pulling his spine out through his nostrils,” Caerella said sweetly, then got up and walked over to Clarus, holding a small axe, holding it up. The two exchanged words before starting a friendly sparring session. 

“Is she—” Aesling asked. 

“Deadly serious,” Vera said, and swallowed. “And I doubt I’d be able to stop her, too.” 

“On the one hand,” Aesling said, “I want to fight her with every fiber of my being for daring to threaten my Clarus. On the other hand, you are her Vera, and I can’t help but respect her for that. I like her.”

“Me too,” Vera said and walked over to Flaveo, who held out two tins of food. She took them both and brought one over to Rubicus, who put the armor down he was working on to take the food from her with a grateful ‘hrmpf’. She sat down next to him, and started to eat in silence. There were many things that could be held against Flaveo, but he knew his way around quail’s eggs. 

“I’m sorry,” Rubicus said, quietly. He ate slowly, and his eyes were fixed ahead. If she didn’t know better, Vera could have sworn he hadn’t spoken at all. “I thought you weren’t you. Too good to be true.”

“I know,” Vera said. She looked over again as Rubicus rubbed his face. She pretended not to see the tear that still clung to his beard. “It’s okay.” She paused. “We’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” he said. 

“We’re okay.” Vera smiled a little, and ate her eggs.